


Pinterest Writing Prompts - poetry and flash fiction

by NotAnother3



Category: Original Work
Genre: writing prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-11-27 17:41:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20952338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotAnother3/pseuds/NotAnother3
Summary: I found writing prompts on Pinterest to which I have written flash fiction and poetry.The writing prompts only consist of three words/phrases, usually conveying an aesthetic, a general vibe and I tried to capture that.





	1. Prompt 1

**Author's Note:**

> Barbed wire  
A scrap of blue fabric  
Howling winds

You were there. You were there next to me when the winds outside howled through the broken window.

You wiped away my tears. You comforted me when I discovered the scrap of blue fabric.

You held me. You held me in a darkened room when everything I knew shattered like the pieces of glass beside us on the ground.

You kissed me. You kissed my heart when I found barbed wire. You kissed my soul before electric sparks flew.

And everything drowned in blue fire. 


	2. Prompt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dying fire  
Red hair in messy braids  
A grey fox with silver eyes

Through the red leaves, you can feel the chill of an oncoming winter. You can see a grey fox with silver eyes, chasing away warmth of a dying fire. You might notice a person. They're dressed in a dark cape and have red hair in messy braids. They're standing still, ignoring all this, standing perfectly still. Holding a bow.

You may focus on the noises of the waterfall behind black rocks. You may close your eyes and feel a light breeze on cold skin. The breeze turns into wind, into a howling storm, tugging at your clothes but the person? Still, controlled arms, open posture, a staring gaze. What are they looking at?

The noise of an arrow pierces the silence, cuts through the air, from the person to the target. A grey fox bleeds silver blood. Silver eyes turn grey.


	3. The Vampire Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this prompt was:
> 
> a waltz  
a black-framed mirror  
heavy velvet curtains

The music doesn't start to play, it drifts into existence, like it's always been there and like it always will be.

You look around, taking in the dark, gothic architecture. The heavy curtains made from red velvet close over big windows. You turn around, looking now at the guests. There's only a few but still too many to count, 25 or 250.

Nothing seems real and yet you hear the music, you see your surroundings like there's nothing else. You cling to it.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, soft through layers of clothing. A mask, a hand offering the next dance. You take it.

A waltz. Dresses wide, many layers, colours red, gold, black.

Black. Like the raven outside that the curtains shield from you, that you can't see but feel. A presence.

Black. Like the frame of the mirror on the wall. It hangs without a purpose, showing an empty ballroom and floating glasses.

Red. Like the drink in those glasses, too liquid to be blood, too thick to be wine.

Red. You look up. Like the eyes fixed on yours, fond but alarming, saying both "I adore you." and "Watch out." Like the eyes of everyone, you realise, everyone but you.

Gold. Like the pupils of every pair of eyes, small, glowing and shimmering, adding to the warning effect.

Gold. You sit down on a red velvet couch, the dance now over. Gold. Like the legs of the table before you, like the candlesticks. Like the shine of the candles, lighting up the ballroom. Thousands of candles, the colours red, gold, black.

And like it faded in, the music fades out, an echo of it still lingering in the air, you can almost taste it. Then, even that is gone. You're not sure it's ever been there.


End file.
